Watson is here for his weekly talkback spot with Robbie Buck to promote the beauty of astronomy.

While most of Sydney is contemplating going to bed, Watson's just warming up.

"So are you a night person?" I ask.

"Yes," he says in a soft Yorkshire accent.

"Although getting up in the mornings, even for rare events like the recent planetary alignment isn't getting any easier", he laughs.

"And coming off several nights observing can feel a lot like jet lag, which can be challenging when you have to go back to working days."

Buck welcomes us into the studio and Watson pours his tall frame into a chair behind a microphone. Behind him through the window the neon lights of Star City casino flicker in the night sky.

As we wait for the news to finish, I tell Watson my seven-year-old son is fascinated by space and wants know when rockets will go to Pluto.

He does a quick calculation.

"When your son is 11 the New Horizons spacecraft will do a fly-by on 14 July 2015," he says, before going on to explain that Pluto sits in a belt of asteroids, some of which are probably bigger than Pluto itself.

The news is over. Watson straightens and moves closer to the microphone.

Talk back

"Fred, it's been a great week for planet-gazing," says Buck.

"It certainly has Robbie," he answers. "Venus, the brightest object in the sky, has aligned with Jupiter, Mercury and Mars and although they're now starting to go their separate ways, they are still clearly visible in the early morning.

"While you might get three planets aligning from time to time, having four lining up is something that only happens once every 50 to 100 years."

Over the next five minutes Watson and Buck banter about the sulfurus, volcanic Io — one of Jupiter's moons, and a proposal being considered by NASA to send a boat to Saturn's moon Titan, whose surface glimmers with large frozen gassy lakes.

A caller asks whether neutron stars-formerly known as pulsars — would make good navigational aids (not to be trusted apparently, sedentary Qasars are a better bet), and before we know it, 20 minutes has slipped by and the program is over.

Watson's been doing various ABC radio slots now for 15 years. But each week is different. Last week, he deftly fielded a question on the potential effects of microgravity on deciduous trees, explained why the sun rises in the west and sets in the east on Venus (something to do with the tidal pull exerted by the sun), and touched on lunar influences on coral spawning, and the role Roman pottery plays in monitoring the Earth's changing magnetic field.

Yet, despite a lifetime spent peering deep into outer space, he says he continues to be dazzled by the night sky.

"In a sense, it's healthy to keep feeling overwhelmed,"

"Talking about the universe as being 13.7 billion years old is something that rolls glibly off the tongue, but it is important to stop and think about it," he says. "There are 400 billion stars in the Milky Way Galaxy alone, and 100 billion other galaxies in the universe that we can observe.

"We write down numbers, and reduce it all to physics but it's really exciting to think that all of the things we have going on here on Earth are probably happening on many other planets at any given time," says Watson.

Starstruck

Hard at work: Astronomy's not just about looking at stars. Watson decants liquid nitrogen, which is the life-blood of observatories (to keep the electronic cameras cold).
(Source: Fred Watson)

Watson's interest in astronomy began as a small boy living under the overcast skies of Yorkshire in the north of England, much to the amusement of his family.

"It was so grimy and smoky it was a miracle that you could see stars at all," he laughs. "But in the late 1950s early '60s everyone was caught up in space and astronomy. The technology was in ascendance, and the first artificial satellite was launched.

"After a while my peers grew up, I remained starstruck," he says adding that although he went on to study at St Andrews University in Scotland, he was concerned that astronomy would tie him down, and opted to study physics and maths instead.

After uni, space continued to exert its pull, and he started working with a telescope building firm, doing the prep work for the construction of the 3.9-metre Anglo-Australian Telescope, and its wide-field companion, the 1.2-metre UK Schmidt Telescope, the telescopes for which he is now responsible.

Now the astronomer in charge of the Australian Astronomical Observatory, a role he has held since 1995 when he moved to Australia permanently, Watson spends much of his time on the road.

Once a month he travels to Coonabarabran, where he'll spend five nights observing the sky perched high above the town in the Warrumbungle Ranges away from the neon glare of Sydney.

He is currently working on the 10-nation RAVE (RAdial Velocity Experiment) project, which is measuring the speed of a million stars in the Milky Way so we can see how it formed.

"We think it has indulged in a form of galactic cannibalism," Watson says.

When he's not in Coonabarabran, or in the AAO's Sydney office he's sharing his passion through talks in pubs and in the outback, radio spots, books and international tours (the next one is to see the Northern Lights in February).

"It's a shame you didn't email me the day earlier," he says surprised that I would find it interesting watching him in the studio.

"I had a great gig with Bryan Gaensler at the observatory last week," he says of the talk about Australia's bid to gain the Square-Kilometre Array Telescope.

"It was amazing actually. It was absolutely pouring with rain, and not only did all these people turn up anyway (it was standing room only), they actually paid money to hear us speak."

Music man

Lead guitar: Watson played guitar in folk duo 'Bradford and East Fife Ready Mixed Concrete company'. He's seen here belting out a tune in a Scottish folk club in 1977.
(Source: Fred Watson)

As we leave the studio, Buck asks me about the profile I'm writing.

""Did he tell you he plays guitar?" he says. "I think we might have one of his records here."

In the 1960s, Watson got caught up in the folk music revival that was sweeping the world.

"I was one half of a duo, the Bradford and East Fife Ready Mixed Concrete Company," he says. "Our main competition was an outfit called the Humble Bums, who got more bookings because their name was easier to fit on posters — or perhaps because they were better performers."

Eventually outdone, he says, they hung up their smocks. While the members of the Humble Bums did quite well — one of the duo was Gerry Rafferty of Baker Street fame, the other was comic Billy Connolly — Watson went on to pioneer fibre optics in astronomy.

The technology now allows data to be gathered from hundreds of stars at a time and opened the door for statistical studies of stars and galaxies, the stock in trade of astronomy everywhere.

But back in the early days, and "with a budget of about $29.50" he was struggling to make it work, and found inspiration from an unexpected source.

Ross Edwards, the [internationally recognised] composer explains: "While wrestling with a particularly knotty problem one evening, he (Fred) heard a piano concerto by an 'obscure Australian composer' (Edwards) on the radio."

"He (Fred) listened to the whole thing, which he kindly said helped him make an important breakthrough, and subsequently got in touch," says Edwards.

"I also became very interested in Fred's work and was the token arts person in a collaboration that took science to the outback, an odyssey that involved travelling between towns in a World War II vintage DC-3 aeroplane."

In 2002 Edwards was commissioned to write a large-scale orchestral work for the Adelaide Festival, an orchestral and choral symphony called Star Chant.

Watson supplied the lyrics which listed the scientific, Aboriginal and Arabic names of stars and significant constellations, and Edwards wrote music to complement the nature of the stars being chanted.

"Once inextricably linked, there has been something of a schism between the arts and science, but Fred's skill at communication has created interest in stars and astronomy for a whole new audience," says Edwards who has since collaborated on other projects.

In recognition of his service to science communication, Watson received a Eureka Prize for Promoting Understanding of Science and last year he was awarded a Member of the Order of Australia (AM).

"When the official envelope arrived I initially thought it was the power bill," he chuckles. "But it was a great honour and nice to see the outreach work being recognised."

But while a great high, he says one of the most spine tingling experiences of his career was having his words sung by a choir of 80 accompanied by a 90-piece orchestra in front of a packed concert hall.

"That was truly an out-of-this-world experience," he says.

Back in Sydney, Watson has a new fan.

The day after we meet, Watson sends me an email. It's a picture of the New Horizons spacecraft, which my son proudly takes to school the next day, full of excitement about his email exchange with 'Mr Watson' and eager to share his discovery with his friends.